


The Last Challenge: A Dance for All

by crownedseeliequeen



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, F/F, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Other, who needs plot when you have the power of dance?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:07:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28662933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedseeliequeen/pseuds/crownedseeliequeen
Summary: A new lead regarding a classified mission has sprung up in Vienna, and the team reconvene from each corner of the world to chase it down. But now they must face their biggest challenge yet: dancing at a ball.
Relationships: Azu/Kiko (Rusty Quill Gaming), Commander James Barnes/Celiquillithon "Cel" Sidebottom, Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter 1

The hotel room was all a bit much. Intricate patterns swirl up and down the wallpaper. In the room is a single bed with a bright red and gold duvet, a carved wooden chair, and an elaborate chest of drawers with a gilded mirror atop it. Zolf steps away from the mirror and begins pacing.

“Are you sure our next lead is at the Court Ball?” Zolf asks, tugging at his cravat. 

“Darling, do you really think I would’ve interrupted our holiday in Barcelona if I wasn’t sure?” Wilde responds. He emerges from the bathroom in violet coattails and matching trousers. 

“And how do I know this wasn’t just an excuse for you to go to Vienna?” Zolf says.

Wilde leans down and plants a kiss on Zolf’s forehead. “Because if it were, I wouldn’t have brought the others along.”

“Fair point. What are we looking out for again?”

Wilde pulls a small square of paper from his pocket.

“‘Find the one-eyed man in a white suit. He will give you the time’,” Wilde reads. “Sounds simple enough.”

“Yeah.” 

“Are you ready to go?”

Zolf pauses for a few seconds. “I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s just…do I look good enough?”

Wilde’s eyes linger over Zolf. He wears a deep blue tuxedo that matches Wilde’s vest. Zolf stands stiffly, tugging at pieces of his tux. His cravat sits at a wonky angle poking out from behind his beard. Parts of his jacket have creased from where he’s pulled it.

“Well, even if you weren’t my date, you’d certainly be coming home with me,” Wilde says, cracking a smile.

“Yeah, right you cocky bastard.” Zolf retorts, but he visibly relaxes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Thank you.”

“You know, uh, purple is your color. I mean, well, uh, every color is your color but purple—”

“I love you.”

Zolf takes a deep breath. 

“I love you too.”

“Now, let’s get you sorted out.”

Wilde lightly smooths out some of the creases on Zolf’s jacket. Moving his hands gently, he then tucks Zolf’s cravat into place. Working his way up, he smooths down flyaway hairs, tucking a few behind Zolf’s ear. Their eyes meet. The two freeze, Wilde’s hand still at Zolf’s ear.

“We should uh, probably head out now,” Zolf stammers. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right” Wilde responds.

Neither make any attempt to move closer towards the door. Wilde’s hand slides to Zolf’s cheek. Zolf grabs Wilde’s tie and pulls him down to his height. Just as they lean in, they hear a loud knock at the door.

“If we don’t leave right now, we’ll be late for the ball!” yells a voice from the other side. 

The two break from their trance. Sighing, they pull apart and head towards the door, which Zolf then opens.

On the other side of the door is Hamid, wearing green coattails and a purple cravat. His hands turn to claws and back repeatedly. 

“How nice of you to finally get ready; we’ve been waiting for you for so long,” Wilde says as he leaves the room and walks past Hamid. “Come on!”

Zolf steps into the hallway, locking the door behind him. Standing to Hamid’s left are Azu and Kiko. Azu wears a bright pink ballgown that’s a bit too short for her, and Kiko wears an elegant black tuxedo with a pink tie to match Azu. As Zolf catches up to Wilde, he passes Cel, wearing an upscale leather jacket, dress pants, suspenders, and a golden bowtie, and Barnes, dressed in full Naval regalia. Hamid hurries to the front of the group and gestures for everyone to follow. Wilde puts his arm around Zolf, Azu takes Kiko’s hand, and Cel links arms with Barnes as they all proceed forward. 

The group makes their way through the dim hallway and down the staircase. No one in the lobby pays them any attention. Hamid charges out the door and everyone follows. Parked in front of the hotel is a black carriage with two horses in front. Hamid briefly converses with the driver before gesturing for the party to enter the carriage. Azu, Kiko, and Cel squeeze onto one side while Zolf, Wilde, Barnes, and Hamid squeeze in onto the side opposite. 

“So, let me get this straight,” says Cel. “We’re looking for a man with one eye—or was it just an eye? Did they mean it was the only eye in his head? Because I’ve known quite a lot of people who have an extra eye on hand if they needed it for anything, but now that I’m thinking about it that would be quite hard to bring out during a ball.” 

“Now, I could be mistaken, but I think it’s just the one eye in his head,” Barnes says.

“Oh! That makes sense!” replies Cel.

“And he’ll be wearing a white suit, so he should be fairly obvious,” Wilde interjects. “Hamid, since you’re the only one without a dancing partner, you’re in charge of seeking him out.”

“Alright,” says Hamid. “There’s just one thing that I’m a bit worried about.”

“What is it?” asks Azu.

“The note said he’ll give us the time, right? Does that mean something like a watch or a clock? Or some other hint?”

Zolf pipes up. “It’s probably just stupidly ominous wording. We’ll figure it out soon enough.”

The rest of the carriage ride passes with no further incident. Hamid spends the time acutely aware of his seventh wheeling, but he still appreciates the love all around him. Eventually, the carriage slows to a halt at their destination. The party slowly files out of the carriage and onto the sidewalk. 

A giant, magnificent staircase looms before them. Guards wearing completely nonsensical uniforms line the sides. At the top lies the monstrosity of the Viennese Court Opera. From the base of the stairs, it appears to be a huge Gothic building, with shimmering edges and gargoyles perched atop it. 

“Shall we?” says Wilde, gesturing up the stairs.

“It’s go time!” shouts Cel.

The party begin their trek up. A new sense of anticipation washes over them as they slowly approach the top, no one knowing what could happen inside.


	2. Chapter 2

The staircase proves to be a more worthy foe than expected. Each step is much larger than the average stair, making it difficult for Zolf and Hamid to ascend. Hamid has begun flying up the stairs just to avoid crawling. Wilde gently supports Zolf as he leads him up the stairs. Even Azu must hike up her dress to keep it from dragging on the ground. It takes an excruciatingly long time to climb the stairs, and the team has almost forgotten their objective by the time they reach the top. The sun has begun to set in the meantime. 

“I have some choice words for whoever designed these damn stairs,” Zolf grumbles as he finally hits the top step.

“Seconded,” says Hamid as he floats to the ground.

“Let’s save those words for another time,” Azu pipes up. “We’ve arrived.”

The doors to the Court Opera, roughly three Cels high, tower over the party. Intricate workings of gold and adamantine snake around each door. Two guards stand at the ready, javelins crossed before the doors. Wilde rummages in his coat pocket and draws out a crisp, ornate letter that ever so slightly glows. He holds it out to the guards. The guards look from the letter to the party, then lift their spears and open the doors. 

“After you,” Wilde says, mock bowing and gesturing towards the door. This earns him a sidelong glance from Zolf, to which Wilde responds with a smirk. Hamid, however, ignores this and walks in. 

“Oh, come on,” Zolf responds. He takes Wilde’s outstretched arm and drags him into the foyer. Barnes and Cel follow, arm in arm, with Kiko and Azu trailing behind them.

“This is incredible!” says Cel, marveling at the foyer. 

The giant doors were merely a hint as to what would come after. The arched ceiling ascends well beyond where everyone had been certain the building’s roof was. From floor to ceiling, the foyer was lined with intricate paintings. It has a bit of everything: gardens, animals, kingdoms, soldiers, villages, cults.

Perhaps “paintings” is the wrong word. No, on closer inspection, these are not just paintings. A nearby paladin winks. A small rabbit hops into a bush. Flowers sway from a nonexistent breeze. Tears fall from the face of a young woman who reaches to the sky. Cel walks up to the nearest wall and lightly pokes it. They feel only the cold stone on their finger. The living art warps around their hand, leaving an empty splotch around it. They remove their finger and the art weaves back together. Hamid moves to detect magic, then thinks better of it and stops himself. 

“We should be heading in now,” he says, making a move towards the end of the foyer.

“Wait,” Wilde interjects. He points towards the ceiling with his free hand. “Look.”

Everyone tilts their head up to look at the ceiling. A magnificent dragon twists and coils around, shifting between colors. Dancing around it is a large jester, hopping and twisting away from its reach. Fire shoots from the dragon, but miraculously the jester appears unharmed each time. They are locked in eternal battle, neither appearing to gain the upper hand. 

“Oh dear,” says Hamid.

“Well, that’s…something,” says Kiko.

“Let’s head in,” says Azu.

“Right. Let’s go,” Wilde says as he snaps back to the present. 

The party converges around another set of gigantic doors. An intricate pattern of golden flowers weaves its way up the doors. Hamid takes a deep breath and lightly pushes the right door. Both doors immediately swing outward into the dance hall. 

The dance hall is positively monstrous. Dazzling chandeliers cover the massive ceiling. Massive tapestries of ancient heroes adorn the walls. Tables layered with food and drink line the edges of the room. Chairs are scattered throughout. An orchestra plays from the right side of the ballroom. A huge crowd of dancers fill the middle space. Roughly half dance in sync, a quarter dance just a tad offbeat, and the rest have already drunk too much and struggle to stand.

The crowd appears to comprise mostly humans. Some halflings and gnomes twirl in and out, but very few are present, presumably due to the massive staircase. Everyone is dressed to the nines. The party members are not underdressed, but they’re on the lower end of the formality spectrum at this ball. No one lifts their attention from the dance to the new arrivals. From this initial scan, the party finds no sign of the one-eyed man. 

“What now?” asks Barnes. 

“I think…we dance,” Kiko responds. She takes Azu’s hands and leads her towards the crowd. 

“May I?” asks Cel, gesturing to the dance floor. Barnes just nods in return. 

“I’ll just be over there looking out for the man,” Hamid says, heading towards a banquet table. 

Zolf and Wilde now stand alone in the doorway. Wilde clears his throat expectantly. 

“Oh, right,” says Zolf. “Well, would you like to, uh, dance with me?”

Wilde just stares at Zolf.

“What do you—? Fine,” Zolf sighs. Still holding Wilde’s hand, he raises it and lightly kisses it. Wilde’s face lights up with a genuine grin.

“I would be honored to dance with you, Mr. Smith,” he says. Zolf shakes his head, but he fights back a smile as he leads Wilde towards the crowd. 

Now the biggest test of our heroes begins, and one question must be answered: can they dance?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah! they finally made it into the ball this chapter. tune in next time to see how well the dance goes.

**Author's Note:**

> listen,, i just needed an excuse to make them go to a ball. i needed it in my life,,,


End file.
